


Fragments of a Teenage Hero

by Faeluria



Series: Tales of N’adana Vhet [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), One Word Prompts, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 20,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeluria/pseuds/Faeluria
Summary: A masterpost of my writings for Moen Moen's FFXIVWrite challenge for 2020! Snippets of one-word prompts about my Warrior of Light, N'adana Vhet.Posted originally to my Tumblr @faeluria.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur/Warrior of Light, Alphinaud Leveilleur & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone & Warrior of Light, Y'shtola Rhul & Warrior of Light
Series: Tales of N’adana Vhet [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895053
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Crux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _crux; an essential point requiring resolution or resolving an outcome_

The air in the room she paced back and forth in felt tight and warm, though she wasn’t sure if the heat was because of the temperature or her nerves. She had been watching out the window for hours at the progress the people of Norvrandt were making on their ambitious project – a golem of all things, to pluck Mount Gulg from the heavens itself. It awed her – their drive and perseverance to see a project so seemingly impossible to the end. It shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did – she had succeeded in plans that seemed much more impossible, after all.

But nothing was more impossible than the conundrum she was facing now.

The poor miqo’te had been weighing her options for longer than she cared to think about. She was almost certainly about to face her death - and a very painful one, at that. Y’shtola and Urianger had delicately explained to her the possible consequences of absorbing so much light aether in terms that she could understand. Despite being an apparent powerhouse of the stuff, she could never quite wrap her mind around what exactly it all meant. They had tried to assure her that they would do everything in her power to make sure she didn’t burst into flames – and she believed them – but she knew better than anyone that sometimes no matter how hard you tried, there are some people you just can’t save.

And so, with the possibility of her premature death all sorted out in her head, there was something that was bothering her even more than dying before she could even reach the ripe age of eighteen: whether or not to tell Alisaie Leveilleur that she was in love with her.

N’adana Vhet had been hopelessly in love with her friend for months now. Ever since they traveled together in Doma, spent countless nights together talking and passing out on each other’s shoulders, and leaning on each other after all the other Scions had been pulled onto the First – she had been a goner from the very start, even if she hadn’t seen it until now.

Now. she watched her bustle around the small village of Amity, leaning against the window frame, her white hair and red coat easily identifiable in the crowd of eager helpers. She couldn’t help but smile as Alisaie nodded towards a hyur woman and helped her pick up some boxes, filled with gods-knows-what supplies, and taking them across the town center as a part of a perfectly-oiled machine, people passing through each other as they went about their assigned tasks. As much as Alisaie complained, N’adana knew that she would do anything to help people in need. She had seen it for herself, held her time and time again as she sobbed and yelled in frustration at all the friends she couldn’t save.

N’adana didn’t want to burden her with another weight on her shoulders – guilt and regret about what she could have done or what she should have said. But at the same time, could she really deny it any longer? Let herself die on a world that wasn’t her own and never let Alisaie know how much she cared for her? Loved her?

The thought made her nauseous, more-so than the aetheric sickness that bubbled up as she absorbed more and more light aether. If her life is what it took to save the First and the Source, she would forfeit it in a heartbeat.

But what of the advice Shtola had given her in Rak’tika? N’adana had been whirring with anxiety ever since she had seen Alisaie again, and she may have let her feelings slip to Shtola when the older woman prodded her about the fact that she had mentioned Alisaie a good ten times in the hour since reuniting at Fort Gohn.

You are still but a child, Adana. You may have responsibilities as Hydaelyn’s chosen, but do not let that stop you from loving someone. Your love and compassion are what make you such a wonderful person, and is indeed what Hydaelyn must have admired most when she chose you. Do not repress what is most special about you.  
Gods, Y’shtola really knew how to get in her head, didn’t she? She did have a point, N’adana conceded – if she was going to die before her mother even let her drink alcohol, then she should at least tell the girl she loved how she felt, right?

It was settled, then – she would go tell Alisaie right then and now how she felt before the whir of pre-battle preparations distracted them from any chance of speaking before the ascent of Mount Gulg. Her mind whirled with how she would approach the topic – simply laying out her feelings seemed the best course, and she mentally prepared herself for rejection. She made a mental footnote to stress the fact that she did not want pity – she did not want her final hours with her best friend to be a lie, forced to make her feel better or at peace before she succumbed to the Light.

Just as she was reaching for the doorknob to step outside, she almost ran into the Exarch as he peaked in to check on her. “Apologies, N’adana,” he backed up to give her space as she closed the door behind her, joining him on the creaking wood of the building’s front porch. “I came to inform you that preparations are complete. Your fellow Scions have already left to aid in the activation of the golem, and wanted to invite you to watch it with me from Amity.” She could detect a warm smile underneath his hood.

Shit, she thought to herself, heart sinking into her stomach. All she could hope for now was an opening to speak with her before the ascent and hope for the best.

“Sure,” she gave the Exarch a weak smile, walking with him towards the center of the small town to join the Chai’s to witness the golem rise from between the mountains. Despite how awe-inspiring the sight was, N’adana’s thoughts were clouded with what she could possibly say to Alisaie when they were together again, fighting alongside each other for possibly the last time.

It wasn’t until she was hiking up the steep hill towards the cluster of Scions – her Scions – waiting for her so that they could ascend the mountain together, that she felt an overwhelming sense of clarity. Her breath caught in her throat as Alisaie stepped out from behind Urianger, the wind gently tugging at her red sleeves as she waved at her.

Even though her feet were planted firmly on stable ground, she felt as if she was already standing at the top of Mount Gulg, her breath shallow and her chest tight.

And she was ready to jump.


	2. Sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _sway; the action or instance of swaying or being swayed, an oscillating, fluctuating, or sweeping motion_

N’adana stood in the center of her room at the Rising Stones, admiring her work as she observed her newly rearranged room. She flattened out a fold in the rug she had just bought from the Revenant Toll markets with her foot, wanting to make sure everything was in its proper place. 

It felt good to have a place for herself – a place to get away from all the responsibilities and duties. 

It was then that she heard a knock on her door, and when she strode over to open it, she was greeted by Y’shtola, who’s hands were occupied with a plate of sliced bread and steaming bowl soup. “Tataru had mentioned that you have not left your room since this morning. We were worried you had not eaten, so I brought you something.” 

N’adana smiled widely, “That’s sweet of you, Shtola.” She opened the door all the way and gestured for her friend to come inside, who strode over to her desk and set the Warrior’s lunch down on the tidy surface.

“I see you did some redecorating, hm?” Y’shtola glanced around, noting the new additions and organized manner of the place before joining the younger miqo’te in the center, ruffling her hair affectionately. “How much gil are you to bet that it will be messy again come next week?” she grinned. 

N’adana rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to bet anything because we both know you’d win.” She chuckled before walking over to her desk and grabbing a slice of bread from the plate, dipping it into the soup before eagerly shoving it in her mouth. 

“What motivated you to do so, anyways? It looks lovely, but t’was nothing wrong with your room before.” 

“Oh, Alisaie started teaching me how to dance. I wanted some extra room for practice.” 

Y’shtola raised her eyebrow at N’adana, “You two have gotten much closer since she returned. Does Alphinaud know that he’s not the favored Leveilleur anymore?” 

N’adana chuckled before shaking her head, “Alphinaud and I still play Triple Triad every week. If anything, I am leveling the playing field between both my favored friends.” Y’shtola pouted comically at N’adana at the suggestion that she wasn’t the girl’s favorite. 

“You’re practically my sister – doesn’t count.” N’adana smiled at her softly before popping another piece of bread in her mouth. 

Y’shtola returned her smile before holding out a hand, “Well, now that the subject of my status is settled - if you rearranged your room for the purpose of dancing, then maybe we shall break in this new carpet of your’s.” 

N’adana chuckled before putting the bowl of soup down on her desk, standing to meet Y’shtola in the center of the room before taking her hand. Y’shtola curtseyed dramatically before twirling the younger miqo’te around, their laughter echoing off the walls in place of absent music. The two fell in step as they swayed back and forth, giggling and gossiping for the next bell or so until they had decided it would probably be wise to return to their duties.


	3. Muster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _muster: to cause to gather, to amount to_

_Just… ask her out! It’s that easy!_

  
Alisaie shifted uncomfortably on the couch nestled in the offices of the Ruby Bazaar, forcing her gaze to stare at anything but the Warrior of Light - the flickering fire on the other side of the darkened screen that separated the sitting room and the majority of the office, Tataru shuffling through paperwork and muttering about something, Hancock adjusting his stupidly dark glasses-

Her brain had been scrambled all morning, ever since Tataru had told them that they’d have the day off today – she was just waiting on a report to come in, and since it hadn’t arrived yet, they weren’t obligated to fulfill any of their duties that day. It was the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with N’adana, but why was she so godsdamned nervous about it all the sudden? They were friends, of course, so why would it be such a weird request?

_Because you are **so** obvious, you idiot._

  
Her eyes fell on N’adana again, the miqo’te’s head turned down as she wrote something down on parchment, pressed flat against a book in her lap that she used as nothing more than a writing desk. She was on three pages of writing by now, Alisaie noticed, so she assumed it was a letter to her mother detailing their adventures in the Far East thus far.

Alisaie tried to keep her gaze moving, but she couldn’t help but stare as N’adana bit her bottom lip in concentration, her quill swirling and looping across the page as she tried to craft her words. Her copper hair curled delicately around her face, and at this angle, Alisaie got a perfect view of the splattering of freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose. She looked so relaxed on the sofa opposite of her, curled up in a green blouse and trousers that she had to roll up at her ankles because (as she always complained) nothing she found off the rack could fit both her hips and the length of her legs.

It wasn’t until N’adana spoke up that Alisaie blinked back into reality. “Huh?”

“I asked if there was something in my teeth that’s making you stare like that.” N’adana chuckled, barring her teeth at Alisaie as she prepared to rub away anything left over from their earlier snack of dried seaweed that Tataru had brought back from the markets. _Gods, she was adorable._

Alisaie tried to hide her embarrassed blush, “Oh, no, nothing’s in your teeth! I was simply dozing off. I apologize.”

“Nothin’ to say sorry about.” N’adana smiled, her Limsa accent slipping into the inflection of her voice. “It’s been a rough few days – don’t blame you for being tired.” She hummed, leaning herself over the arm of the couch and propping her chin on the hands she had laid flat against it.

Alisaie nodded, humming in agreement as her mind scrambled to say something. Her heart hammered in her chest as N’adana looked at her expectantly, ever-patient as she awaited an answer. “I, uh…” Alisaie uncharacteristically stumbled over her words, “I’m a bit hungry, would you want to grab something for lunch?”

N’adana smiled, and if Alisaie wasn’t so nervous herself, she would have noticed the warrior across from her blushing as well. “Sure! What were you thinking?”


	4. Clinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _clinch; to make final or irrefutable: settle_

N’adana had liked girls for as long as she remembered.

She knew this was true, from the way she gravitated towards that adorable hyur girl she went to school with to her first kiss with a miqo’te boy behind a stack of crates on the docks of Limsa Lominsa.

She hadn’t felt anything.

She had figured out by thirteen that she had a type – long hair and piercing eyes, with a healthy dose of defiant confidence. She desperately pined after a waitress at the restaurant her ma’ worked at, blonde hair and green eyes, who she witnessed more than once put an entitled customer in their place. She nervously approached her in the kitchen one day on her lunch break, stuttering as she tried to ask her out to get some lunch. She was polite enough in her rejection, citing the fact that she was ten years older than the poor, lovestruck N’adana.

It was coincidence when she made a friend at school who made her cheeks flush every time she saw her. A miqo’te like her, with brown hair she kept in braids and the most gorgeous golden eyes that looked at her with kindness. Her hands shook every time the girl had asked her to braid her hair, only to thank her and ask if N’adana thought the beautiful hyur boy that worked with his father at the docks would like It.

When she traveled to Ul’dah, it became a pattern. There was a young elezen woman that she trained alongside in the gladiator’s guild – she had impossibly curly, dark hair that she tied back while they practiced, N’adana getting distracted more than once by her beautiful opponent (it had resulted in more than one embarrassing shield-to-the-chest incident).

By the time she had become the famed Warrior of Light, she hadn’t had time to peruse any of her fanciful crushes – not the lovely girl that sold her wares in Vesper Bay, or the adorable recruit she met when she was given an invitation to join Maelstrom, and especially not Hilda, the spitfire woman from the Brume that N’adana felt increasingly intimidated by.

It was absolutely irrefutable when Alisaie came into her life. It was in the way Alisaie so eagerly joined in on teasing Alphinaud with her, to the way her blue eyes found her in every battle they fought, to the way she would brush out her hair while they were traveling, N’adana trying her hardest not to stare as she braided her long, impossibly white hair.

Any reservations she had about her pitiful longings were dashed. Beautiful women would always have her heart, and as soon as they looked at her with those eyes that threw her into a whirlwind, she was a goner.

And she was fine with that.


	5. Matter of Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _matter of fact; something that belongs to the sphere of fact as distinct from opinion or conjecture (aka it is a complete FACT that Alphinaud deserves good healthy friendships)._

N’adana had woken up to in a cold sweat, too afraid to go back to sleep, afraid that she would once again be plagued by nightmares about what happened to the Scions in Ul’dah. So, she climbed out of bed and snuck down to the kitchens. On her way she had noticed the faint candlelight still peeking out under the door to Alphinaud’s room. She stopped in the middle of the guest hall of Camp Dragonhead and listened, her sensitive ears picking up the faint sound of crying.

_Oh, Alphinaud._

And so, she hurried to the kitchens and whipped up some hot chocolate, close enough to the specifications of Haurchefant’s recipe that she could manage. She had seen him make it enough times, but she never thought it would be as good as when it was made from the elezen’s hands.

With two mugs in hand, she found her way back to Alphinaud’s room with a newfound determination in her step, pushing her nightmares to the side in favor of giving all her attention to a friend in need. She quietly knocked on the door with her foot, waiting patiently as she heard Alphinaud sniffle and take a moment before standing up to open the door.

“Delivery!” N’adana whispered quietly as he opened the door, “I saw you were still awake, so I made one for you as well.”

“I am not deserving of such friendship.” Alphinaud looked down at the floor, trying his best to avoid looking at her with his puffy, red eyes.

“As a matter of fact, Alphinaud, you are.” N’adana shot back at her friend, not even asking to be invited inside before stepping in and making her way over to plop down on the edge of his bed. She motioned with one of the mugs to the spot next to her, to which Alphinaud quietly complied and gratefully took the steaming chocolate with a faint smile.

“You heard me, I am to assume?”

N’adana nodded, her ears twitching slightly in embarrassment at the admission of her eavesdropping. She took a sip from her mug and offered her arm around his shoulder. “It’s been hard for you, I know. Just... remember that you don’t have to go through it alone, okay?”

Alphinaud sighed, and despite how late it was, he was ready as ever to argue with her. “But I _do_ – ‘twas my fault for being so naïve.”

“We were _all_ there, and we were _all_ played like a fiddle.” N’adana squeezed his shoulder, feeling how tense he was through the sweater he usually slept in.

Alphinaud sighed, attempting to argue his guilt once more, but failing against the bulwark that was the Warrior of Light.

“The only crime you are guilty of is wanting to fix things, and I can’t fault you for that.” She smiled softly at him, “I understand the pressure - being so young and having so much responsibility. We can’t afford to make mistakes, and that’s _exhausting.”_

He nodded in agreement, finally letting himself relax against the warrior’s shoulder.

“I blame myself for what happened at the Waking Sands. I know it was probably because of their hold on Thancred, but I feel like if I hadn’t been so open or cocky, if I wasn’t so open in my letters. They had so many opportunities find us because of _me._ If I had just _been_ there…“ she sighed, shaking the memories of burying her comrades, “Point is, we both have a great many regrets, but we can’t let that stop us.” She teasingly bumped his shoulder with her own, which was rewarded with another weak smile from the elezen. “I won’t let you, Alphinaud Leveilleur – the boy so eager to change Eorzea for the better – to be defeated by this. Got that?”

“And you said you were not one for words.” Alphinaud returned, holding up his mug and clinking it against her’s, “I understand, but only on one condition.”

“And what would that condition be, hm?”

“That we _both_ commit to the betterment of Eorzea, and in doing so, watch each other’s backs and make sure our foolish mistakes are kept to a minimum.” Alphinaud raised a brow at her, holding out his free hand for an official, binding handshake.

“You didn’t even have to ask, ‘cause I was gonna do that anyways.” N’adana grinned, sealing the pact after pulling her short arm from out of her oversized sweater.

After their deal was settled, they sat in silence until they both finished up their hot chocolate.

“You know, I would argue that your attempt is _better_ than Lord Haurchefant’s, if I may be so bold.” Alphinaud hummed as he set his empty mug on the bedside table.

N’adana shook her head with an incredulous laugh, “Absolutely not, and I’m going to tell him you said that!”

Alphinaud’s eyes widened, “W-wait, I would not wish to offend Lord-!”

N’adana laughed at how easily her teasing flustered him, the two eventually settling down and keeping each other company until N’adana had accidentally drifted off mid-conversation, her body laid horizontally on his bed, legs still hanging off the side of the mattress.

Alphinaud smiled softly, picking up a spare blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed and throwing it over his closest friend before climbing back onto the mattress, curling up on the other side. He drifted off into dreamless sleep knowing three simple truths:

_He was cared for._

_He was not alone._

_Nor would he continue to feel alone for as long as he had a friend such as the Warrior of Light by his side._


	6. Meteor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _meteor; a small body of matter from outer space that enters the earth's atmosphere, becoming incandescent as a result of friction and appearing as a streak of light_

_“Manni, can I hold your shword?” little N’adana reached out with her hands, stopping before she grabbed at the hilt and patiently awaitng her older brother’s guidance. She looked at him with her doe-green eyes, her front tooth missing and causing her endearing lisp._

_The older miqo’te shook his head with a chuckle, “I think this one’s a bit too heavy for you, but…” he reached behind him and pulled out a long, wrapped gift and handed it to his sister. “I had my carpenter friend make this for ya’, and a matching one for me, so I can finally teach ya’ how to swing one a’ these things.”_

_N’adana took the wrapped present eagerly, tearing the paper apart and revealing a painted sword made of wood, the hilt covered in swaths of yellow to imitate N’manni’s real, bronze sword. “Wooow! It’s just like your’s!” the little miqo’te squealed eagerly, stepping back and confidently swinging it around while making whooshing noises with her mouth._

_N’manni chuckled quietly, crouched down as he watched his little sister run around and hitting various things around their apartment. She had been swinging for hard things – the bed, the dresser, the chair – but as soon as she ran through the kitchen, N’manni jumped up and caught the blunted wooden blade with his hand. “I’ll teach ya’ after ma’ makes dinner, okay?”_

N’adana sat atop a stone wall on one of the tallest overhangs in Limsa Lominsa, the only soul in sight as far as she knew. It was far too late in the night for anyone to disturb her at her favorite hideaway, so she swung her legs over the ledge and settled herself in to watch the stars.

“Gods, Manni. Has it really been four years already?” She leaned back and rested her head against the stone wall behind her, the ledge she was sitting on more than enough for her to use as a bench. “Ma’s finally lettin’ me practice with H’enari without a fuss. Remember her? The miqo’te girl I was friends with? Well, she’s real good at magic, so she’s been helpin’ me with my shield work – throwin’ magic at me to dodge and stuff. I’ve been… usin’ your sword. I hope you don’t mind.”

She tilted her head up to the sky, watching the stars and sinking into her memories as the cool sea air curled around her like a blanket. “I hope you and Pa’ would be proud of me…”

As soon as she thought about the day she lost her brother, N’adana was taken back to the Calamity.

_Her mind filled with memories of screaming, terror – her mother grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “We have to get inside, Adana!”_

_“But Ma’, Manni is still out there! We can’t go inside until he comes back!”_

_Her mother’s eyes filled with tears as N’adana looked up at the haggard woman that pleaded with her, red hair tousled by the whipping winds, haloed by the sky that grew hot and began to rain fire._

_N’adana’s gaze fixated on the balls of fire that fell from the hole in the sky, not even noticing her mother picking her up and running into their home. All she could see at that moment was her entire world burning before her._

_And suddenly her heart was twisted with a profound sense of loss. She had always attributed that feeling of loss she had experienced to knowing. It was as if she knew the exact moment that her brother had died._

_Hear._

_Feel._

_Think._

N’adana shook the painful memory from her thoughts, trying to erase the image of her mother crying and the hole in her stomach that she couldn’t forget for more than a week at a time. Those words came back to her so often now... clouding her thoughts and assaulting her more with each passing day. Made her see things about people that they never would have told her - never would have told anyone.

She tried not to think about it.

N’adana stood up and tried to stop the shaking in her legs, holding onto the stone wall to balance herself. She turned her head to stare up at the stars again, wondering absentmindedly to herself which twinkling dot her brother was.

“I’ll make you proud, Manni. I swear it.”


	7. Nonagenarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _nonagenarian; a person whose age is in the nineties._

N’adana hadn’t wanted to go to her grandmother’s funeral.

She hadn’t known the woman very well – after all, they didn’t get to leave the city very often to go see her. She only remembered the few times they had visited the old woman were boring, with nothing to do except sit inside her musty cottage and watch the fire flicker as her mother and grandmother talked for hours. Her father and brother were the ones that dutifully kept the hyperactive N’adana busy, often taking her outside to play hide-and-seek in the fields of Middle La Noscea.

But regardless, her mother dressed her in black before taking a ferry out of Limsa Lominsa that took them to Aleport. She watched N’manni and her parents quietly, her father comforting their mother with a gentle hand on her shoulder as he pulled her in and let her rest her head on his chest. N’manni tried his best to explain to N’adana why it was important for them to go.

“She was ninety-two, Adana, and she was Ma’s ma. We have to go for our ma’, okay? Don’t you want to help ma’ while she’s sad?”

She was only four, then. She didn’t understand death, didn’t understand why her mother was sad.

* * *

It wasn’t until a year later that she started to understand what loss was like – when her father died.

She didn’t want to go to his funeral, either, but for different reasons. She didn’t want to believe her pa’ was gone, couldn’t even fathom it at that age. She didn’t want to see her ma’ cry again – she hated seeming her ma’ cry.

Her brother, then twenty, picked N’adana up and held her as their father was buried under the soil of the La Noscea coast. She didn’t watch – just buried her face in N’manni’s shoulder and cried until it soaked through his button-up.

* * *

By the time she was sixteen, she had understood what dying was – probably understood it better than anyone else. There was once a time where it was something she could ignore, but not now. Not after her father and brother. Not after Noraxia, or Palaymo, or Minfilia. Moenbryda. Haurchefant. Ysayle. Conrad. Not after the countless people she had killed herself, with her own hands.

So in all her remorse, she found herself at the secluded little graveyard on a cliff of Middle La Noscea, just outside of Aleport. _“I’ll be back in a bell, I have something to take care of while we’re here.”_ She had told Alphinaud and Alisaie, who had come with her on an errand for the Scions shortly after their return from the newly liberated Ala Mhigo.

And so she hiked up the familiar cliff that her mother took her to sometimes, sitting down on the ground in front of a tombstone etched with her late grandmother’s name.

“Hey, grandmama. I just… wanted to say sorry for being such a brat when I was a kid.” N’adana sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “And I know I never got to tell you, but thank you for giving me such a good ma’. I feel so… guilty for never getting to know you. I can’t make up for it, but if there’s any way you can hear me, I hope that you’re proud of what I’ve done.”

She sat there for a while, looking out over the cliff and tracing the familiar outline of Limsa Lominsa in the distance. It wasn’t until Alisaie had appeared at the gates of the graveyard, the old, rusty metal creaking as she approached.

N’adana’s ears twitched, turning around to see the elezen offer an apologetic smile. “I apologize for intruding, but Alphinaud said that we should be going soon. I can give you some more time, if you need.”

N’adana shook her head, “No, it’s fine! I was just finishing up anyways,” she lied, turning back around to the gravestone and placing her hand on the cold slab of quarrystone. “Say hi to Pa’ and Manni for me, would you?”


	8. Clamor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _clamor; (n) a loud and confused noise, especially that of people shouting vehemently. (v) (of a group of people) shout loudly and insistently._

_“Miss Warrior of Light! Miss N’adana! Over here, over here!”_

Within a matter of seconds, what had turned into a pleasant afternoon walk with her favorite twins became a battle for personal space with a heard of elezen children. The little girl from the Vault – Maelie – followed behind sheepishly, as if to say _sorry, this is my doing._ They huddled around her, pulling at her coat and chattering excitedly about _heroic deeds_ and _wow, you’re shorter than I expected!_

Alisaie was the first to speak up, loudly clearing her throat and stepping in front of N’adana to try and shield her from the little gremlins. “Listen up! We’ll entertain your questions, but you all have to be a bit calmer, alright? Let’s all make a circle, and then you can prod N’adana as _much_ as you want.”

Alphinaud and Alisaie took up the duty of corralling the kids into a circle while N’adana found a place to sit on the edge of one of Ishgard’s many fountains, a bench already carved out of the stone that could seat four of them. Alphinaud sat to her left and Alisaie on her right, who then slid over to the end as N’adana waved towards Maelie, who was still standing in the back. “It only seems fair that Maelie should be the one to sit up here with us, hm? Her bravery should be rewarded, after all!” She smiled widely at the petite girl, who’s eyes lit up at the suggestion before pushing her way to the front and sitting herself between N’adana and Alisaie.

It was a wonder that Alisaie and Alphinaud rounded up the kids so quickly, but N’adana just figured it was because they were so eager to hear from the Warrior of Light herself. They all watched attentively, with some standing or leaning against the fountain while others sat on the ground.

“Can you tell us the story of how you saved Maelie pleeease?” One boy pleaded with a missing front tooth; his black hair tied back in a short ponytail. The other children joined in on the suggestion eagerly.

Maelie shifted uncomfortably next to N’adana, probably not wanting to relieve almost falling to her death for what was probably the millionth time since it happened. N’adana turned to Alphinaud as a silent plea, who picked up on both their discomforts and expertly steered the conversation elsewhere. “I’m sure you all have heard that story enough. Wouldn’t you rather learn how N’adana became friends with Vidofnir, the dragon who caught Maelie that day?”

They were unsurprisingly agreeable, quickly switching gears to chanting about wanting to hear that particular story instead. N’adana quieted them down and launched into her story, starting with meeting Ysayle and becoming friends with her, to traveling with Estinien (they _oo’d_ and _ahh’d_ at the mention of the Azure Dragoon), to meeting Hraesvelgr and all that happened in between, making sure to praise Vidofnir every chance she had whenever she came up in the story.

By the time N’adana finished with her tale, the gaggle of children couldn’t sit still, eager to ask all the questions they had but didn’t in fear of interrupting the story they were entirely engrossed in.

“Alright, now you can ask me questions.” N’adana chuckled, holding out her hands in defeat as she prepared for an onslaught of what she assumed would be questions about the dragons, or fighting, or what Estinien was like, or even Ysayle.

Instead, they began to ask everything _but_.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Easy – orange.”

“Is it orange because you smell like oranges? Oh – where are you from?”

“Limsa Lominsa!”

“My father’s-brother’s-wife’s-sister’s-niece lives in Limsa Lominsa! Do you know her?”

“I don’t think so, no.” N’adana chuckled.

“Does it ever feel weird to have your ears on the _top_ of your head instead of the _sides?”_

“Uh… I could ask the same about your ears!”

Alphinaud and Alisaie sat back and listened to N’adana answer question after question, clearly amused with the increasingly absurd things they were coming up with. It wasn’t until one of the younger girls near the front stood up and tugged at Alphinaud’s coat, “Excuse me, mister. Are you the Warrior of Light’s _boyfriend?”_

Alphinaud’s face flushed a bright crimson, stuttering and stumbling over his words as he tried to give the girl any answer that resembled the word _no._ N’adana glanced over and raised a brow, her ears perking up curiously when she realized she had missed the girl’s question. “What was it she asked you, Alphinaud?”

Before the flustered Levellieur could answer, the little girl turned to N’adana with an excited sparkle in her eyes. “Are you and blue boy _dating?”_

Alisaie failed to hold back her laughter as she peaked over from behind N’adana, covering her mouth to stifle her amusement as best she could.

N’adana blushed slightly, but she smiled at the girl and shook her head. “Oh, no. I understand why you would think that, but Alphinaud is my _best_ friend, not my _boyfriend.”_

Alphinaud was still dealing with his flustered stuttering while N’adana was thrown another round of questions.

“Well, do you _have_ a boyfriend?”

“Do you _like_ someone?”

And the most adorable question from the gap-toothed boy, “Can _I_ be your boyfriend?”

N’adana laughed awkwardly at all of the questions, trying her best to answer them but also not embarrass herself to the fullest extent that she could manage. “No, I _don’t_ have a boyfriend, and you can’t be my boyfriend because I travel so much! You deserve a girl you can go get pastries with in the Jeweled Crozier!” She ruffled the little boy’s hair.

“You didn’t answer me!” a little girl pouted, “I asked if you liked someone!”

Alisaie, ever the lifesaver, suddenly pretended to get a call on her linkpearl. “Tataru? There’s a gobbule on a rampage at Camp Dragonhead that only the Warrior of Light can handle? We’ll be right there!” She pretended to hang up dramatically, standing up and turning towards the crowd of kids that suddenly looked very disappointed by the manner of the ‘call’ Alisaie had just received. “Well, you heard me, kids. Looks like our favorite Warrior has to go back to doing hero things.”

The kids protested, but it didn’t take them too long to say their goodbyes and disentangle themselves from their impromptu story circle. They pretended to jog off until they rounded a corner, Alisaie stopping them and letting out a breathy laugh. “You’d think they’d be more interested in, you know, heroic things?”

Alphinaud cleared his throat, straightening out his jacket and trying to reassemble the rest of his pride now that he wasn’t being scrutinized by a crowd of eleven tiny elezen. “I thought so, too. Now I suppose the entirety of Ishgard is going to know of our Warrior’s relationship status, as they are more prone to gossip than the highest nobility. I hope you are prepared for an influx of young suitors to the Fortemps Manor, I’m afraid.” Alphinaud smiled apologetically at his friend, who simply shoved him as they made their way back to Fortemps Manor as inconspicuously as they could manage.

After a few minutes of walking, Alisaie bumped N’adana’s shoulder with her own and gave her a truly devious grin. “So, _do_ you like anyone?” she snickered.

_“Alisaie!”_

“Oh, me? I’m flattered!” The fiery elezen batted her eyelashes towards the flustered miqo’te.

“No, I – that’s not what I meant and you know it!” N’adana huffed. Her cheeks had already been flushed from the cold, but they turned an even deeper shade of red at the incessant teasing. She crossed her arms over her chest. _Two could play the game of theatrics,_ she pouted at Alisaie.

Now it was Alphinaud’s turn to embarrass N’adana – she could tell by the way his lip curled up in the same way his sister’s had. “I know who it is.”

“Alphinaud, don’t you dare-“

“It’s Hilda.”

_“You little – get back here!”_


	9. Lush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _lush; (of vegetation) growing luxuriantly. very rich and providing great sensory pleasure._

_“Come with me, I have something to show you.”_

Alisaie had taken N’adana by the hand and dragged her off the path and away from their friends as they traveled across fields of flowers towards their destination of Dohn Mheg. “I’m taking her an alternate route! We won’t be far behind, I promise!” the elezen had called out to Urianger when he had begun to protest, eagerly pulling N’adana up a hill and over the crest to reveal an expansive field of flowers, all beautiful shades of orange, which made the field look like the sunset itself.

N’adana gasped in awe, hesitating for a moment as she took it in before making her way down the hill and into the expanse of flowers. Alisaie followed behind closely, making sure to stay close enough to keep holding her hand as she watched the Warrior of Light and Darkness drop the hardened barrier she had built up around everyone but a select few.

Alisaie felt honored to be one of those people.

N’adana turned towards Alisaie with her signature smile, her green eyes as brilliant and bright as Il Mheg itself – and _gods,_ _the way her freckles crinkled on her nose when she smiled like that._

“It’s pretty, but… why did you want to bring me here so badly?” N’adana looked down at their intertwined hands, distracting herself from their closeness by leaning forward and picking some of the flowers from the field.

“Urianger had mentioned it once, before you came to the First. I remembered thinking how much you would have liked a field of orange flowers,” Alisaie’s voice held a softness to it that was surprisingly different from her usual brazen tone, “so I told myself that I’d get to show you one day.”

N’adana straightened back up, a little misty-eyed as she held out a flower and gingerly tucked it behind Alisaie’s ear. “I can’t believe you remembered something as silly as my favorite color.” The miqo’te chuckled softly, hesitantly taking her hand back and admiring the orange flower against the elezen’s white hair.

Alisaie’s face suddenly felt very warm, though she still somehow willed herself to pluck a flower from N’adana’s hand to return the gesture, “Well, it’s easy to remember,” she struggled a little to tuck the stem of the flower into the braid N’adana wore at the crown of her head, but she managed to fasten it securely enough that she was satisfied. “Besides, it’s a good color on you.”

“I, uh… thanks.” N’adana replied lamely, rubbing the back of her neck and shuffling for an awkward moment, “We should get back to the group, yeah? Dohn Mheg is waiting, and I’m sure Urianger is going to come looking for us soon.”

“Right, right.” Alisaie nodded, trying her hardest to push the disappointment out of her voice as she tried to burn this memory of them together deep into her mind for just a moment longer.

The two waded through the field of flowers and eventually caught up with the rest of the group further down the path. Thancred leaned over towards Urianger and snickered about something as they returned, the two girls confused about what they were so amused by until they began to realize that their hands were starting to feel a little sweaty.

They hadn’t even realized they were still holding hands.


	10. Avail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _avail (n); advantage; use; efficacy; effective use in the achievement of a goal or objective_

Alisaie huffed, stalking into the room she shared with Alphinaud while they stayed in Twine.

“No luck?” Alphinaud asked, looking up from the book he was skimming.

“Nope. We’ve all been so busy trying to get the trolly to work...” Alisaie rested her cheek in her hand, using her other to drum anxiously against the table. She had been trying to spend some time with N’adana – _alone_ – ever since they had left Il Mheg.

But it seemed that every time she tried to get her attention; she was busy. Such was the life of her hero.

“You could try again later today, perhaps. Lunch may be lost, but perhaps not dinner!” Alphinaud stood up and moved to sit next to her, ever the optimist (especially when speaking of Alisaie’s affections with their dear friend).

Alisaie groaned, “I don’t think she _wants_ to be alone with me – not after how stupid I was when we were in Il Mheg.” She leaned forward and plopped her forehead against the table. “Perhaps she’s purposely avoiding me.”

Between the handholding, N’adana’s not-so-subtle way of trying to get out of the situation, and their almost-kiss had it not been for her _brother interrupting them_ , she was sure that the Warrior didn’t want the same thing she did. After all, she hadn’t barely even been able to _look_ at Alisaie since then.

Alphinaud chuckled at the notion that N’adana didn’t want to spend time with his sister, “That’s absolutely _not_ what is happening, I assure you.” He put a comforting hand on Alisaie’s shoulder, “She is our dear Warrior of Light and Darkness, after all. ‘Tis only expected that she is constantly occupied with one manner or another. Besides…”

He didn’t have to say it. They both knew how absorbing the aether of the Lightwardens was affecting her. It was small things – coughing, nausea, the way her aether felt _off_ – but she kept it hidden, even from them. Her closest friends.

Alisaie huffed, “ _Yes, I know._ I just… I wish she would talk with me is all. I’m worried for her.”

Alphinaud let his sister vent her frustrations, though a lot of his thoughts were occupied by the unfortunate condition of their aether-stricken friend. Alphinaud stayed quiet for a time while he tried to figure out what advice to best give her. N’adana had alluded to _her_ affections for his sister, but she and never quite told him outright, so he didn’t want to assume. However, it was safe to say he knew N’adana and Alisaie better than anyone.

And he was _certain_ they both felt the same way about each other.

“Perhaps maybe she is simply nervous because she feels the same way?” Alphinaud finally offered, raising a brow at Alisaie in a way that said _I am very confident with this assumption._

Alisaie paused, looking at him in confusion as she tried to process what he had just said. “Are you suggesting she…?”

He laughed at her sister’s thick-headedness, “Does it seem that I am suggesting anything else? Because I am sure I was being pretty clear.”

Alisaie went to speak, but she was stunned for a moment until she came back to her senses. “That’s absolutely impossible, Alphinaud.” she shook her head furiously, as if to banish the thought from her mind, too afraid that she might start believing in a false hope.

Alphinaud sighed in frustration, grabbing his sister by her shoulders and shaking her. “It is the opposite of impossible – quite literally on the other side of the line! I’ll ask her myself if it means that the both of you stop pretending that-“

_Knock, knock knock knock._

The two froze, knowing their friend so well that they instantly recognized her familiar knocking pattern.

Alphinaud took his hands off his sister’s shoulders and invited her inside, not even standing up from their spot at the small table that graced the room.

N’adana peaked her head inside, the dark circles far more prominent under her eyes than they usually were. “Was I interrupting another staple Levellieur argument?” She managed a bit of humor, which was a small comfort to the twins. “If it’s about which of you is Tataru’s favorite, my gil is on Alisaie. She might still be a bit annoyed at you for the _sword incident_ ,” she raised her brows at Alphinaud as she stepped inside, and they could tell she had just come back from a day of helping with the trolley. They all had that morning, but it seems like N’adana stayed far passed lunch.

Alphinaud stuttered with embarrassment for a second before deciding to push the jest to the side (for now), “You did, but that’s no matter. What did you need?”

N’adana turned towards Alisaie, shuffling her dusty boots nervously against the wooden floor. “I remembered you wanted to visit Tesleen’s grave, and since we’re in Amh Araeng, I wanted to know if you wanted me to come with you?” she cleared her throat, adding quickly, “Thaffe and Jeryk said they expect the trolley to be done within the next few suns, so I wanted to make sure you had the opportunity to go before we got caught up in hero stuff again.”

Alphinaud tried to hide a knowing grin from the both of them, considering the topic was not one to quip about, but he felt as if his point had been strengthened enough that he was certainly pleased with himself.

“Yes, I – that’s very thoughtful of you, N’adana.” Alisaie smiled, getting up to leave straight away before realizing that she had already changed into her pajamas for the night, “Give me a few moments. I’ll meet you outside?”

N’adana nodded, not expecting to be offered a spot to go with her but taking the suggestion as an invitation, “Of course. I’ll go grab my stuff, just in case we run into any sin eaters on the way.”

As soon as N’adana slipped out of their room and shut the door, Alphinaud leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Perhaps your worries were of little avail after all.”

“… Perhaps,” Alisaie muttered as she hurriedly slipped on jacket and boots, “that doesn’t mean a trip to visit _Tesleen’s grave_ is really the place to tell her my true feelings, though, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, I do agree. However, it _does_ show that she cares deeply about you.”

Alisaie muttered something as she finished lacing her boots, grabbing her rapier from by the door and strapping it to her waist. “Ah yes, how surprising – our dear friend _cares_ about me,” Alisaie rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced.

Alphinaud left the argument at that and waited patiently for Alisaie’s return, certain that she was going to have _another_ story to tell him about how utterly deft the both of them were.


	11. Ultracrepidarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ultracrepidarian; expressing opinions on matters outside the scope of one's knowledge or expertise._

N’adana sat at a table in the Rising Stones with the rest of the Scions, books scattered across the surface as they studied and chattered about aether theory.

The Warrior of Light had absolutely no clue what any of it meant.

Alphinaud and Urianger sat next to each other, arguing amongst themselves about some sort of theory regarding teleportation. It wasn’t what they had been studying together, or _did_ it have something to do with what they were studying? She had stopped understanding a few bells ago, but she didn’t think she was _that_ far off.

They had recently returned from Corethas after N’adana’s battle with Iceheart – er, Shiva – both? Both. Regardless, the Scions had been immensely troubled by the implications that she could so freely transform into a primal.

“Do you think, maybe she isn’t a primal at all? Minfilia mentioned that she possibly has the Echo – so do you think maybe she’s just so powerful that she can just… harness all this extra aether, but only sometimes?” N’adana hadn’t realized she had been speaking out loud until all the other Scions turned to look at her with wide eyes.

If she hadn’t felt out of her element before, she _really_ did now. They all pondered it for a moment, which filled N’adana with so much anxiety that she just continued spewing her stream of consciousness to fill the silence. “I mean, if she’s like me and just has this mass potential for aether or whatever you all think is ‘special’ about me, then maybe she’s just… channeling it differently?”

Y’shtola tilted her head, “I suppose, but… the Ascians have not taken an interest in her as they have you.” The tone in her voice was almost protective, as if she hated being reminded how much of a target N’adana truly was to them.

“We’re not sure if that is entirely out of the realm of possibility yet.” Moenybryda spoke up from her seat next to Urianger, “The little warrior may have a point, particularly about the status of this woman as a primal. She is the one who faced her after all – maybe she should speak up more often.” The Rogaedyn woman smiled at N’adana, who’s face felt hot at the acknowledgement.

Alphinaud leaned forward on the table, one hand propping up his chin. “I don’t believe she is similar to you, N’adana. There is something pointedly different about the way she operates… it’s not like anything we know about aether thus far.”

Moenbryda shook her head, “We cannot leave out the possibility of similarities entirely. I know you want to separate the villain from your dear friend, but again, she _does_ have a point.”

Alphinaud flushed at the accusation that he was putting his soft spot for N’adana above theorizing about Iceheart, but Urianger agreed with Moenbryda as the gears inside that hood of his continued to turn. He was certainly forming a theory in his mind, but he wasn’t one to share until all the kinks were worked out in his head beforehand.

And so, they continued to argue amongst themselves, N’adana sinking back into her chair and getting lost in the conversation that she had accidentally sparked.


	12. Tooth and Nail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _tooth and nail; with all one's resources or energy; fiercely_

“Your friends were a disappointment. But you – you will entertain me, will you not?”

N’adana readied her shield as Zenos approached her, vision closing in as she focused solely on her opponent. Her surroundings quickly blurred around him – the burning of Rhalgar’s Reach, the smell of smoke and blood, the presence of Alisaie and Pippin flanking her as they prepared to fight with her.

But all she could see was _him._

_He did that to Shtola._

N’adana charged forward with a fierceness her friends had scarcely seen before. Her blade clashed with Zenos’s, no room for error on either side of the fight. Watching them fight was like being in a trance – blades moved faster than you could keep track, both blocking and parrying each other in a deadly dance.

“I have no need for this rabble,” he spat, knocking the three of them back in opposite directions away from him. _I am much more interested in you,_ he seemed to say as his predatory eyes practically burned a hole through her chest.

N’adana recovered quickly, the adrenaline coursing through her too strong to keep her down for more than a moment. “Alisaie, Pippin!”

“We’re fine – don’t worry about us!” she heard Alisaie call out, but she couldn’t see where she was. Her vision was still focused on Yae Galvus, who stalked towards her at a languid pace.

N’adana rushed towards him once more, and once she made contact she pushed all of her weight against her shield and into his chest. He used his sword to push back, knocking her to the ground and quickly trying to take a stab at her. She was fortunate enough to roll out of the way and stand once again, throwing herself at him again with no hesitation.

“Hm, yet you stand. Mayhap you have potential,” he growled, parrying her sword once again.

Despite all physical odds, N’adana pushed back furiously against every swing and stab he managed to throw at her. Each parry and swing became like second nature to her – like fighting was breathing itself.

Her vision was going red by now, throwing every ounce of her being into her efforts to best Zenos Yae Galvus. _“You killed them, you monster!”_ she screamed as she swung at him, _“I will not let you live after what you’ve done!”_

“Don’t stop now…” he purred, pleased at how easily the Warrior of Light quickly sank to such a bloodthirsty level of anger.

It was so easy to push her further down as she fought tooth and nail against him. She wasn’t deterred in the slightest, brushing off every hit or swipe like it was nothing. She slammed her tiny body against his chest so hard that he actually _stumbled._

She wanted him dead in that moment. She wanted his being to be erased from very existence.

Before she could take advantage of his weakness, he pushed back, N’adana barely avoiding is counter.

“It would seem I misjudged you. This ends now.”

And then suddenly, N’adana was on the ground. The burning sky above her spun as she heard the heavy thud of footsteps approaching her.

The miqo’te tried desperately to stand, but he was upon her by the time she had gotten up to her knees. He slashed at her before she could pick up her sword again, cutting a gash straight through her breastplate and across her stomach.

 _“N’adana!”_ she heard a familiar voice call, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. All she could smell was smoke, all she could taste was blood, and all she could feel was searing pain.

_“Pathetic.”_

It was the last thing she heard before everything went dark.

N’adana groaned as she came back into consciousness, and suddenly all she could hear was _“oh, thank the gods you’re awake.”_

She opened her eyes to see the twins sitting dutifully at her bedside in the infirmary of Rhalgar’s Reach. The light that threatened to blind her also let her know it was about midday, through the archways in the stone that lead outside.

“How are you feeling?” Alphinaud leaned forward, pushing her back down onto the cot as she tried to sit up.

“Like shit,” she managed, though she didn’t know how, since her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton bolls. “Is Shtola- “

“She’s recovering just fine,” Alisaie assured her, standing up and moving over to a table where she began to pick out pieces of bread and cheese before bringing them back over and putting the plate next to the bedside table. “Eat when you’re ready. I’m sure you’re hungry – you’ve been out for two days.”

 _“Two days?”_ N’adana groaned, this time pushing away Alphinad’s hands as she forced herself to sit up. Her stomach growled as she picked up the plate of bread and cheese, suddenly too hungry to restrain herself as she shoved a piece of cheese in her mouth.

Alphinaud nodded, “You collapsed after helping some of the wounded, assumedly from loss of blood. It may have just been the fact that I was preoccupied with healing others, but it didn’t even seem that you were as injured as you were.” He went on to explain how there was now a nasty new scar across her stomach and ribs, but he did his best to minimize the damage as much as possible. “Let me go get you some soup, I’m sure you’ll want something more substantial than that,” he smiled softly at her, squeezing her hand gently before he got up.

Once Alphinaud was out of earshot, Alisaie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “So, about that fight with Zenos,” she bit her lip as if she were nervous. Worried. “The way you were fighting, I… I’ve never seen you fight like that before. It was as if you were-“

“Just like him?”

“That’s not what I was going to- “

“I know, it’s just…” N’adana hung her head, catching herself with her hand and rubbing her forehead, “When I saw what he did to Shtola, everything just… went red. I had this uncontrollable urge to rip him limb from limb, to destroy his very _being_.”

Alisaie frowned, leaning back in her chair and propped her chin in her hands as she thought on her friend’s words. “I suppose I’m simply surprised. Sometimes I forget that you are prone to the same emotions as we are.”

N’adana’s cheeks felt hot, “What, like I’m not a person? That because I’m the Warrior of Light that I should just be this perfect, flawless- “

“That’s not what I meant!”

N’adana went quiet as her eyes began to burn with tears, turning away from Alisaie to wipe them away.

“N’adana-“

“No one thinks about how I feel, do they? I’m expected to be this perfect hero with no flaws, ready to fight for Eorzea without a moment’s notice. No one notices when I’m angry, or uncomfortable, or sad, or… tired.” She sighed. Suddenly she was _very_ tired. “I’m tired, Alisaie. I’m tired of being treated like I have to be this perfect person, just because I’ve killed a few primals or _whatever.”_ She didn’t bear to look back, keeping herself turned away as she continued to sniffle and wipe tears from her cheeks.

Alisaie was quiet for a few moments, the only sound between them the sniffling of a scared, lonely child. Before she could speak again, Alphinaud returned with the soup he had promised.

“I’m back with – _what happened?”_ he looked at his sister, who looked to be the guilty party. _“Alisaie, what did you do?”_ Alphinaud hissed at her.

“I believe I’ve something to attend to.” The red mage muttered lamely, standing up and stalking off before N’adana managed the courage to turn back around.

Alphinaud tried to comfort N’adana about an argument he knew nothing about, but she didn’t give him anything to help his case. She simply thanked him for the soup and ate it quietly, avoiding his eyes as he waited to see if she opened up.

She didn’t.

Once Alphinaud left to find his sister (presumably for answers), N’adana simply rolled over and fell back asleep, trying to remember what it was like before she felt like everything and everyone depended on _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW did not expect today to be so SAD!! Listen we needed to address Alisaie's hero worship complex sometime okay. Angsty teens dealing with angsty things in a teenage way!


	13. Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _part; some but not all of something_

Alisaie approached the edge of the water where N’adana sat on the ground, writing her weekly letter back home with bandages bound tightly around her middle. She sat by a lantern that lit up the small area, Rhalgar’s Reach already dark and covered in a blanket of stars.

“Hey, N’adana.”

“Hey.” She didn’t look up from her writing.

Alisaie paused, wondering if this was a good idea. She sat down next to her anyways and crossed her legs in front of her as she tried to think of how to say what she had been trying to perfect for the better part of three days now. “I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did.”

N’adana stopped writing for a moment, putting her pen down and pausing. Listening.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like. It’s so easy for people to forget that you’re a person, and we – the Scions – should be the ones to always remember, but we don’t.” Alisaie hung her head, trying her hardest to remember what she had rehearsed but quickly forgetting everything she had wanted to say in the first place. There were _so many parts_ to the story she didn’t want to admit yet. “I think I’m the one that does it the most, and I’m sorry for that.”

The miqo’te finally faced Alisaie, wincing slightly at the pain her injury still caused her. “It’s…” she sighed, “I can’t say it’s fine, because it’s not, but I guess I can’t blame any of you, either. As harsh as it is to admit, sometimes my feelings don’t matter – Hydaelyn didn’t choose me because she wanted me to have a good life. She chose me because she thought I could do it.”

It was Alisaie’s turn to wince – the image of Hydaelyn choosing N’adana to be her crusader – her warrior – knowing how much pain she would put a mere child through. It didn’t sit well with her at all.

“Sometimes I feel like I can’t – like she picked the wrong person.”

Alisaie reached out to put her hand on N’adana’s shoulder, “Are you crazy? There is no one I believe that could…” she stopped herself, taking her hand back again, “Sorry, I’m doing exactly what you don’t want right now.”

N’adana managed a slight smile, her lips parting in a way that made one of her sharpened canines peak out over her bottom lip. “I appreciate it regardless. Shtola has told me before that me being so ‘humble’ is what makes me the correct choice, but I can never be sure.”

* * *

“I remember you telling me about that.” Alisaie hummed, brushing N’adana’s hair out of the way as she laid against her chest. She parted her hair down the middle and continued to brush through her red curls absentmindedly. “She’s right, you know. If you were so sure of yourself, I don’t think you’d be _nearly_ as worthy of all your fancy titles.”

N’adana smiled up at Alisaie, her chin resting against he elezen’s chest as her green eyes fluttered closed contently. “And so the Scions have said, repeatedly.” she chuckled, nestling closer into her chest.

Alisaie soaked in the quiet moment between them, the pair curled up under a blanket on the couch of N’adana’s apartment in the Pendants. The evening breeze snuck in periodically through the cracked window, the long-forgotten stars of Nordvant starting to appear in the sky in the past bell or so.

Night had been returned to all of Norvrandt, Emet-Selch had been defeated, and the girl she loved was safe, for the moment.

“You know, I never apologized fully for that fight we had at Rhalgar’s Reach.” Alisaie broke the silence, settling her arms around N’adana’s shoulders.

The miqo’te’s ears twitched as she tilted her head towards Alisaie, “What are you talking about? I distinctly remember-“

Alisaie chuckled at her, “I didn’t tell you the whole truth, and honestly, I’ve felt guilty about it for a long time.” Before N’adana could continue to protest, she began to explain quietly, “I feel like I never apologized properly for how awfully obsessed I was with you, but I didn’t want to admit it then. I _worshiped_ you – seeing you like that broke my perception of you for… a while, truthfully.”

N’adana furrowed her brows, but she let her girlfriend continue hesitantly.

“I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, either. It wasn’t until Tesleen had noticed how much I talked about you – she said it seemed like I _idolized_ you,” Alisaie blushed at the admittance of it, even now. “I’m rambling, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that I appreciate you for all of your flaws and shortcomings.”

“Even when I forget to clean up the kitchen?” N’adana smiled.

“Well, I don’t know about _that_ one,” the girls chuckled together, teasing each other for a few moments before Alisaie managed to get herself back on track. “I just want you to know that I’m… not in this because I’m in love with the idea of you. I love you for _you_ , Adana. Every single part of you.”

N’adana squealed, burying her face in Alisaie’s chest as she let out her quiet excitement. When she raised her head again, she was tearing up. “You’re never this open! Is there something _else_ you’re trying to apologize for?!”

Alisaie turned red to the tips of her ears, “What do you mean – am I not allowed to tell my girlfriend how much I appreciate her?”

_There_ was the defensive Alisaie the Warrior of Light knew. N’adana leaned forward and pecked Alisaie’s nose, “Thank you, Alisaie,” she resigned.


	14. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ache; a continuous or prolonged dull pain in a part of one's body._

Every time she was away from Alisaie, she was acutely aware of it.

The way her mind wandered during meetings, the way her ears perked up at the mention of Alisaie’s name in a conversation she wasn’t a part of. The poor Warrior of Light was absolutely lovestruck, and it was taking a toll on her duties.

Tataru could tell in the way N’adana drifted off during their meetings, annoyed that she had to repeat herself because the girl hadn’t been listening. _“Oh, sorry,”_ she would mutter absentmindedly, but it didn’t stop her from gazing off into the distance again and again.

When she had to be gone for longer periods of time, that’s when it ached the most, a tightness in her chest as she packed her travel gear. Alisaie and Alphinaud always came to say goodbye before she had to leave, even if it was early in the morning and they were still disheveled and half-asleep.

 _“Good luck,”_ Alphinaud would tell her.

 _“I wish I could come with you – you always get the fun missions.”_ Alisaie would gripe.

N’adana would hug each of them, the ache leaving her body and replacing itself with anxious heartbeats as Alisaie wrapped her arms around her shoulders. _“I wish you could, too,”_ she always said.

It became their thing, she supposed – Alisaie lamenting about how N’adana had to leave again and again, only for the Warrior to return her affections in the most unassuming way she could manage.

And as soon as Alisaie left her presence again, the ache returned. Her life became a cycle of _when will I get to see her again._ Heart aching and then pounding, back and forth and back and forth with almost no in between.

She found it silly that she preferred the anxiety of Alisaie’s presence instead of the restless calm her absence brought, but under that anxiety always sat a bubbling, unequivocal joy. If she had to suffer warm cheeks and nervous laughs to feel that, then so be it. It’s not like everything in her life didn’t make her anxious anyways.

But sometimes, through the pounding of her heart, there would be a momentary calm. She felt it in the way Alisaie laughed at her jokes or the way her nose crinkled at things she didn’t like. She felt it the most when they actually got to adventure _together,_ and they would go for so long that by the time they finally got to relax they would scarcely have the time to shuck off their amor before they passed out on each other’s shoulders.

It was the only time the ache of absence and the ache of longing disappeared entirely, and for once, N’adana could feel at peace.


	15. Lucubration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _lucubration; laborious work, study, thought, etc., especially at night; any literary effort, especially of a pretentious or solemn nature._

_“There’s something I would like to show you.”_

Urianger followed the Exarch into a room adjacent from the Ocular, stacked to the brim with tomes and scrolls and knowledge. The hooded figure sat the elezen down and explained to him his plans – of how he was going to save the Source, the First, and their dear Warrior of Light.

Once Urianger had processed everything, he sat back in the chair he had been the resident of for at least a few bells now. The Exarch – well, G’raha Tia, as he had just told Urianger, stood up from across him and pulled a chest from under a desk. He unlatched it and rummaged through the contents until he found what he was searching for.

G’raha Tia brought a box over to Urianger, lovingly crafted and sealed with a tarnished bronze clasp. The elezen took the clasp and unlatched it carefully, afraid of how delicate the carpentry seemed on the antique. Once the worn box creaked open, Urianger was hit with a musty smell that reminded him distinctly of the sea.

“How didst thou-“

Urianger was met with worn letters that must have stretched over years – all in achingly familiar handwriting. He took out the stack of papers delicately and paged through them, watching the cursive become more refined as time went on, the words used more precise.

But the language gradually became more grim.

“When I was researching the Warrior’s life to see when it would be best to bring her to the First, Biggs came across her letters and brought them to me.” G’raha admitted, standing next to Urianger and watching him page through the Warrior’s letters to her mother with a solemn sadness.

Urianger hesitated on the final letter in the box, heavily read and almost illegible at how smudged some of the writing had become. However, he could make out the last little paragraph that had been scribbled hastily, the Warrior’s familiar handwriting shaky against the parchment.

_I’m sorry I haven’t been home, Ma’. We’ve been holding them off at Ghimlyt Dark for as long as we can, but they just keep coming. We launch a counterattack first thing tomorrow morning._

_I’m so tired of this hero stuff, but I’ll do it if it means keeping you safe. They’re countin’ on me, Ma’. I love you._

_Your Devoted Daughter,_

_Adana_

Urianger pushed down the burning sensation in his eyes and throat. “What is thine intent in this? To share with me such…”

G’raha Tia looked at Urianger and let him know he was understood. “I wanted you to see these so that you could get a better idea as to what it was like in the days leading up to the Eighth Umbral Calamity. I have found that her letters tell them best.”

Urianger nodded, the both of them staring at the pieces of parchment for longer than they probably would have liked. “I shall study thine research so that mine… deceptions… are more convincing.”

And so G’raha Tia pulled up his hood and resumed his duties as the Crystal Exarch, silently leaving Urianger in his study to mull over all of the information he had so selfishly dumped on the man. He couldn’t possibly thank Urianger enough for being his partner in crime in this foolish heist. He had known of how betrayed the Warrior had felt after Urianger’s initial duplicity, which was also noted in the letters. He knew how hard it must have been for the elezen, to betray the trusting child for a second time, but they both knew it was to protect the little hero that they had both come to see as a younger sister of sorts.

He just hoped that his plan would work.


	16. Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _fade; gradually grow faint and disappear_

We did everything we could to hold off the Garleans.

But it still wasn’t enough.

 _I’m_ not enough.

Something akin to a bitter laugh escapes my throat, though it sounds more like a garbled mess as it becomes harder to breathe. I can defeat dragons, armies, primals – even immoral Ascians, but yet I’m bested by some stupid, dangerous _air._

 _Black Rose,_ they had called it in the briefing what felt like centuries ago. Maybe it was – I can’t remember what it was like not to be a hero anymore.

My senses were fading rapidly, my vision growing blurry around the edges as I watched the expansive sky of Eorzea seemingly swallow me whole. Who would bury me, knowing all my friends laid next to me at this very moment? Suffering the selfsame fate as I am, feeling the same excruciating pain.

I manage to tilt my head just enough to catch the twins in my field of vision. I try to reach my hands out towards them but I can’t even tell if I’m moving at this point. I was never good with aetherology, but in this moment I can finally feel what it’s like to feel it coursing through my body.

Unfortunately, it’s trying to evict my body at the moment.

I can feel a faint pressure at the top of my hand, and as my vision blurs I can see that Alphinaud and Alisaie have used whatever strength they had left to put their hands on top of mine.

_Even when we’re at death’s door, the both of you are determined not to let the Three Musketeers be divided, hm?_

The last thing I see before my vision goes black is their faces, eyes closed and bodies limp in a way that almost makes it look like we’re all lying down for an afternoon nap together.

At least I can pretend in that moment I’ll see them again when I open my eyes.


	17. Panglossian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Panglossian; marked by the view that all is for the best in this best of possible worlds, excessively optimistic._

“You didn’t seem the type to miss a party.”

G’raha Tia glanced over his shoulder and watched as N’adana approached, having shucked her armor for a much more relaxed combination of shirt and trousers. She sat next to him on the edge of Lake Silvertear, crossing her legs under her as she settled herself in the grass.

He chuckled softly, “Neither do you, considering you are the hero of the hour.”

N’adana shrugged, “Ah well, they started drinkin’.”

G’raha Tia was reminded once again that the admirable hero was only still a child. The scar that cut across the bridge of her nose made her appear older despite the fact that she still possessed quite the baby-face. Her green eyes scanned the surface of the lake, which was lit only by the moon, which barely peaked out behind the intimidating silhouette that was Midgardsomar.

“Well, I for one am flattered that you thought to come check on me.” G’raha smiled at the young girl, offering her a piece of the bread he had been picking at while he was lost in thought.

She took the bread with a smile and popped it in her mouth, “’Course. I feel bad that they don’t let you come with, to be honest. I don’t understand anythin’ about this Allagan stuff, so I feel a little guilty I get to see it before all of you.”

G’raha huffed softly, shaking his head at the little Warrior of Light. “I cannot deny that being forced to trail behind is frustrating, but there is still plenty of the Tower to explore, yes? Perhaps Rammbroes will change his mind next we adventure inside.”

N’adana chuckled, raising a brow at her fellow redheaded miqo’te. If it weren’t for his pale skin and red eye, one could almost mistake them for siblings. “Very optimistic of you, considering how against it he was the first time.”

“If there is one thing I am, it is certainly optimistic.”

* * *

G’raha Tia stood at the edge of Lake Silvertear, the blistering sun bouncing off the murky waters and practically blinding him as he stared up at Midgardsomar. His past words echoed in his ears, standing in the same spot he did countless decades ago with the Warrior of Light.

The Warrior that was now dead. She had been for generations.

And where was he? He had slept ten times longer than she had even gotten to _live._

He pressed the pads of his fingers against his eyes to stop any oncoming tears, trying desperately to come to terms with everything that had happened. No matter how many times Biggs had spoken to him of how the world changed after her death, or how many times he read her letters, or looked out at the desolate wasteland that was once beautiful Mor Dhona – it was just too hard to believe.

He just hoped this plan would work. It _had_ to work.

_It’s going to work._

G’raha steeled himself just in time to hear the crunch of gravel behind him, turning around to be greeted by Biggs. He was a spitting image of his namesake, if he recalled correctly, but perhaps the one he came to know so well was the only face he could attach to the name anymore.

“It’s ready. We’re ready whenever you are.” The Rogaedyn smiled down at him, reaching out a large hand and squeezing G’raha’s shoulder. It was as if he could sense G’raha’s nervousness and doubt, speaking up once more before the miqo’te had the chance to respond. “It’s going to work, G’raha. We all believe in you.”

* * *

G’raha wiped the tears from his eyes after his long ascent to the top of the Crystal Tower. Everything had been meticulously planned – Biggs quadruple-checked to make sure all their equipment was out of the Crystal Tower, made sure everything was _perfect_. All that was left to do was just… go. Leave the Source behind him – everything he’s ever known – for the chance to make it right again.

G’raha Tia reached out his hand, channeling the energy that coursed through the Crystal Tower through his very being, the aether encircling him and filling his senses as he focused on the singular point that would take them to deliverance.

_It’s going to work. This is going to work._

_And it did._


	18. Where the Heart Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _where the heart is; no matter who you are with or where you are in the world, your family and home always have the deepest affection and emotional pull. It is the place where you have a foundation of love, warmth, and happy memories._

Dear Ma’,

They say home is where the heart is, but how can my heart be in multiple places at once?

I miss the docks of Limsa Lominsa. My heart aches when I catch the smell of salty air or hear the familiar way I hear a stranger talk in the crowd, and I know I’m not the only one far away from the city I love.

But at the same time, when I return to La Noscea, I start to miss Mor Dhona. Shtola and I will go for walks sometimes and she’ll tell me about the crystals and the land and everything else. I miss the marketplace and the fact that I can find new treasures every morning, like the necklace I’ve attached to this letter (it’s for you).

When I’m not in either place, I find my heart in the people around me. I return after a long day of adventuring to camp and Thancred meets me with a bowl of soup and a warm blanket. It’s in the late nights with the twins around the campfire, to the early mornings when Lyse helps me tighten the straps of my armor. My heart is almost always with me, but it always feels so far away at the same time.

Because my heart is in many places at once, I never feel as if I am truly home. Will I ever?

Or is that the price I have to pay for being the Warrior of Light? Is the heart of a hero supposed to hold the entirety of Hydaelyn?

I’m rambling in yet another letter, aren’t I?

Anyways, I just wanted to write to tell you that I’m still alive. We’ve just returned to Ala Mhigo to help the resistance and search for our friend, Krile (I think I’ve told you about Krile, right?)

I’m sorry I didn’t get to stop by when we were in Limsa but we had to return straight away. I can’t wait to come home and have your famous popoto soup again – I gave Tataru the recipe but it just isn’t the same.

_The letter goes on for two more pages as N’adana details her time in Doma, a prominent water stain on the last page’s corner with a note scribbled underneath that says, ‘sorry ma’, spilled my canteen all over the desk again.’_


	19. Foible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Foible; a minor weakness or eccentricity in someone's character._

N’adana was… not one for diplomacy, to say the least.

“That’s the third guard you’ve yelled at this bell,” Alphinaud pinched the bridge of his nose as they walked away from the Observatorium. The chill of Corethas ripped through them both, leaving the pair irritated at their lack of receptive hosts.

“Maybe if they had just heard us out, I wouldn’t have had to!”

They had been trying to inquire about the Enterprise from the Ishgardians, but to no avail – they really were as frustratingly guarded as they were rumored to be.

“They will never offer us aid if you keep _threatening_ them, lest I remind you.” Alphinaud chided the miqo’te, crossing his arms in thought as they planned their next move. “I suppose we could attempt to proposition the guards stationed at the opposite gate. Perhaps they will be more willing to listen.”

N’adana huffed, her breath clouding in front of her face as she shivered. “Lest _I_ remind you, I’m in _metal_ armor. The cold will freeze my bones before we get inside.”

“Well then I suppose we should get going then, shall we?”

The two trudged around the Observatorium at a safe distance as to not alert the guard, accompanied now by Cid, who had caught up to them after a short while. The older man quickly got the hint that the two children were frustrated with one another by the palpable static between them – both all pouting lips and passive-aggressive quips when he tried to be friendly.

Once they finally reached the other gate, Alphinaud turned towards N’adana before they got into earshot. “Perhaps the Warrior of Light should let me handle this one, hm?”

N’adana simply huffed, following behind the haughty elezen with her arms crossed. Luckily, Cid was kind enough to offer her a scarf, which she took graciously and wrapped it around the bottom half of her face. It smelled like sweat and machine oil, but she didn’t care – it was warmer than what she had been.

The guard greeted the trio curtly, quickly proving to N’adana that he was as distrusting of outsiders as the other elezen they had spoken to. She physically bit her tongue to stop herself from letting him know exactly how she felt about his, frankly, _rude_ demeanor just as he said something that made her ears twitch.

“If you truly wish to enter the Observatorium, then perhaps you lot may as well make yourself useful.” The guard explained that a sentry had went missing west of the encampment and had not returned from patrol.

_“Oh, so they’re shoving their work off on us now-“_

Alphinaud cleared his throat to cover N’adana’s quip, instead nodding politely and offering the guard a practiced, “Of course, we shall return with your sentry posthaste.”

Once they were out of earshot again, N’adana quickly took the lead as they traveled west. “If we have to do their work for them, they better give us the exact coordinates of that damned airship when this is over.”

“Perhaps you should-“ Alphinaud began to suggest something, but N’adana didn’t even let him finish.

“Listen, diplomacy is your thing – fighting is mine. Let’s just go.” She grit her teeth, turning back around and stomping down the hill before he could say anything else. Alphinaud and Cid looked at each other for an awkward moment before following behind the Warrior of Light, the fire she left in her wake practically melting the snow underneath her boots.


	20. Argy-Bargy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _argy-bargy; noisy quarreling or wrangling._

N’adana sank into the uncomfortable but familiar wooden chair that accompanied one of the many tables in the Rising Stones. She hummed with satisfaction at the sensation of a full stomach, an emptied plate of baked popotoes and lamb sat on the surface of the table she resided at.

She watched the Scions bustle about their routines, Tataru finishing up her evening reports at her desk across the way, Y’shtola, Urianger, and the twins surrounded by a pile of books, and the usual crowd of men huddled around F’lhaminn’s bar. Thancred, Coultenet, and Hoary and Ocher Boulder all sat along the bench and chattered amongst themselves, occasionally laughing in an uproar about something or another.

N’adana had almost passed out at the table as she listened to the heartwarming roar of the Rising Stones around her, the only thing stopping her being the rising voices of the increasingly tipsy (though likely drunk, at this point) men at the bar.

She managed to catch something about how Hoary ‘saw her first’ and that Thancred agreed, but it was ‘obvious that she was eyeing him from across Revanant’s Toll the other morn.’

N’adana groaned, and at that moment she caught F’lhaminn’s gaze from across room, rolling her eyes at the scene laid out at her bar. They didn’t notice either of them, continuing to argue about some pretty redhead merchant that somehow was smitten with _all of them at once._

She eventually figured out which lovely lady they were talking about, and in her opinion, the only Scion she noticed the beautiful stranger had ever eyed up was _Lyse._

N’adana was fine listening to them bicker, for a while, but the alcohol continued to flow and their volume began to _rise._ Soon enough she noticed that Y’shtola was flattening her ears to her head and F’lhaminn was passive-aggressively packing the bar away for the night, subtly trying to let them know that _they were done._

“Oi’! Would the lot of ya’ quit it with the argy-bargy over there? She’s not gonna fuck ya’!”

The entire Rising Stones went quiet as the Warrior of Light’s frustrated quip echoed through the hall. The group of drunken men looked at her in shock. Y’shtola and the twins tried dutifully to not laugh, but failed as the three of them pounded on the table and began hollering with laughter.

 _“Argy-bargy?”_ Alphinaud clutched his sides, his eyes welling with tears as he tried to stop himself from making fun of his dear friend.

Urianger let out an amused chuckle as well, grinning from under his hood and offering an explanation for the younger elezen, “’Tis a phrase, primarily used in Limsa Lominsa, meaning ‘argument.’ Hence the… ‘argy.’”

The table erupted into laughter again hearing Urianger repeat the phrase, and meanwhile the group of men had joined in with a drunken stupor of laughing, already having forgotten why N’adana had yelled at them and being just as entertained by hearing Uptight Urianger using Limsa Lominsian slang.

“Look what the lot of ya’ made me do!” N’adana flushed red with embarrassment, slamming her hand on the table and pointing towards the group of idiotic drunks across the way, “makin’ my accent slip out like that!”

It wasn’t uncommon for the harsh tones of her accent to make themselves known when she was frustrated or angry, having picked up on a more ‘proper’ way of speaking in the time she had spent with the Scions. It was especially drilled into her during their time in Ishgard.

Everyone laughed again, which prompted N’adana to stand up and make her way over to Y’shtola, putting a hand on the back of her chair and pouting towards the rest of them.   
She hoped Y’shtola would defend her from the onslaught of linguistic elitists at the table, but she too was trying to hide her laughter at the poor girl’s outburst.

“We jest, we jest,” Alisaie assured the Warrior through her own amusement, “I assure you the quirk is endearing.”

N’adana was sure Alisaie was just trying to make her feel better, but there was a part of her that was tempted to say something silly again if it was going to prompt Alisaie into calling her _endearing._


	21. Shuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _shuffle; to rearrange (a deck of cards) by sliding the cards over each other quickly_
> 
> In which N'adana and the twins teach Ryne how to play the card game Bullshit.

“Okay, so the object of the game is to get rid of all of your cards.” N’adana explained to Ryne, who listened intently as she leaned forward with her chin in her hands.

Alisaie and Alphinaud sat across from each other to the left of them, the group curled up at a picnic table settled in the grass of the Crystarium. The afternoon sun was pleasant against their skin, with the smell of freshly cut grass and a faint hint of smokey grilling from somewhere nearby.

“So, if the object of the game is to simply get rid of all your cards, then… why lie?” Ryne tilted her head curiously.

Alphinaud chuckled from his spot next to her, “Well, the better explanation is that you must be the _first_ to discard your entire hand. So… lying gets you there faster.”

N’adana went on to finish explaining the rules of the game, which involved a standard, numbered deck. Plays go by card number, starting from lowest to highest, and players take turns putting down the cards until the first person runs out. “It’s easy to pick up once you’re in it.” N’adana smiled encouragingly at her fellow redhead.

“But… what if it gets to you and you don’t have the card you are meant to put down next?”

“That’s where the lying comes in.” Alisaie winked, “If you think the person that put their cards down is lying, you yell _‘bullshite!’_ If they were lying, they have to pick up the entire deck. If they weren’t, _you_ have to take the deck instead.”

N’adana handed the deck to Alisaie to shuffle, taking the stack in her hands and mixing them up expertly. She cut the deck in half and threaded the stack together a few times before she began to deal the cards between the four of them at random.

“You can watch us play a round first if you’d like.” Alphinaud suggested kindly, taking his cards as Alisaie delt them to him and began to organize them in his hand.

Ryne shook her head, “I think I’ll be fine, but thank you Alphinaud!” she smiled sweetly, mirroring him and doing the same as she took the cards Alisaie had been passing to her. She crossed her legs on the picnic bench and turned inwards to better hide her hand from Alphinaud.

Once they had all organized their hands, N’adana explained that whoever holds the _ace of spades_ goes first. She looked around the table expectantly to see who would claim the card.

“Oh, I do!” Ryne smiled, putting down a card in the middle of the table.

And thus the game began, circling clockwise around the table as they began to put down their cards. Ryne, N’adana, Alisaie, Alphinaud, Ryne, N’adana-

“Two sixes.” Alisaie proclaimed, pursing her lips as she put the cards down in the middle of the table.

N’adana narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend, watching the way she was trying a little _too_ hard to seem inconspicuous.

“Bullshite.”

“What?! Oh, come on, darling! Do you really think I’m lying?”

Oh yeah, she was _definitely_ lying.

“Go on, pick it up.”

Alisaie huffed, revealing _one six_ and _one eight._ She took the whole deck and grumbled to herself as she tried in vain to organize the comically large deck of cards in her hands.

Alphinaud chuckled from across the table, continuing the game by placing down a single seven. _Safe._

“Bullshite! I have all four of them, pick that back up!” Alisaie pointed at her brother before sliding the card back to him. He grumbled in that similar way Alisaie did, sliding the card back into his hand with a huff of defeat.

“One eight,” Ryne hummed pleasantly.

“One nine.” N’adana tossed out.

“Three tens.” Alisaie grumbled, and no one argued with that one.

The game continued, though there was a tense air at the table as they all stared each other down intensely, trying to pick up on each other’s every breath, twitch, and shift in movement to try and detect if they were lying or not. Alphinaud was good at it, admittedly, as he had a penchant for politics. It gave him a distinct advantage against the two spitfire girls who sat across from him, though N’adana was near awful at lying due to the fact that her voice lifted nervously every time she did. However, that also gave her an advantage when she wasn’t.

“Three threes.” N’adana smiled, which caused Alphinaud to narrow his eyebrows at her.

“Bullshite.”

N’adana leaned back with a grin, gesturing at the pile and mirroring his raised brow mockingly. “Read it and weep, Leveilleur.”

Alphinaud flipped over the cards and scoffed in disbelief. _Three threes._

“You-!”

“ _Take the_ _stack_ , Alphinaud!” N’adana shot back with a full, scheming laugh.

Alisaie, of course, cackled along with N’adana at the misfortune of her brother, who had to pick up practically half a deck with how much it had built up over the past few rounds. Ryne giggled next to him, but kept herself fairly inconspicuous as they continued around the circle, Alphinaud having to take quite a bit to _figure out_ what was even in his hand at this point.

By the time they got back around to Ryne, she put down her final card in the middle of the table.

“One six,” she kept her expression steady – an absolute poker face as she pulled her hand back and folded them on the table.

“Wait – Ryne, was that your last card?” N’adana raised her brow at the girl.

“The likelihood of that actually being a six is slim – I call bullshite, Ryne.” Alphinaud tilted her head towards her, certainly not as threatening as he was when he challenged N’adana, but he wasn’t about to let such the obvious possibility of it being a lie slip past him.

Ryne quietly reached out and flipped the card over, revealing exactly what she had said it was – a single six of spades.

The three of them stared at her with wide eyes, jaws dropping against the metal picnic table as they tried to figure out how the _hell_ Ryne managed to beat them all in her first game. “H-how did you-?!” Alphinaud blinked.

The girl smiled at all of them, though there was a newfound sense of _mischievousness_ in those doe eyes. “In the midst of chaos, one can always find an opening to exploit,” Ryne hummed triumphantly, consolidating all of the cards in the middle of the table and beginning to shuffle them herself as she glanced around the table, “Well, would you all like to play again?”


	22. Beam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _beam; a ray or shaft of light._

The entirety of her body _burned._

N’adana watched helplessly as Alisaie lunged for Emet-Selch, the colors blurring around them, the edges of her vision tinged a sickly white.

_“Our world may not live up to your lofty standards… but they are our worlds! Our homes! Full of life and love and hope!”_

Alisaie’s words were enough to snap her back into reality. The confident waver in her voice helped gather the warrior’s strength enough to put herself into a kneeling position. Everything was blurry, her head was pounding, and her skin felt _blindingly_ _hot_ and _achingly cold_ at the same time.

And then suddenly Alisaie was on the ground, Alphinaud was running to her, and Emet-Selch’s attention was focused on both of them.

“Don’t… you dare.” N’adana managed through gritted teeth, her voice hoarse and pained as she tried to lift herself off the crystalline ground. The movement made her vision go white for a moment, but she used everything she had to push through the pain.

Emet-Selch moved too fast for her again, and all at once a flash of dark magic surrounded her friends – daggers made of smoke but no less sharp rained down on them, entrapping the pair in a circle before _exploding._

 _“No!”_ her voice ripped through her throat, and by the time the smoke cleared, Alphinaud and Alisaie were slumped over each other in a heap.

And suddenly N’adana found herself on her feet, not entirely sure how her body was moving towards the Ascian, but she must have been because he was growing larger through the fog of her clouded vision.

“Still fighting the good fight…” he mocked her with a snarl.

 _For the ones we’ve lost,_ she focused on the words that became her mantra. She _had_ to push on, _for the ones that we may yet save._

If nothing else, she would fight to her last breath and then some to protect her friends – the ones that stood on the brink of very existence with her. The ones that loved her - stood by her even through a corrupted form such as this.

Emet-Selch advanced with an attack, but the only thing she witnessed was the spell bouncing off a barrier that had miraculously appeared around her, the impact leaving a burst of stardust in its wake. It was paired almost instantly with a blinding fireball that descended upon him, forcing N’adana to shut her eyes as she pushed herself forward straight through the dusty, hot impact of Y’shtola’s spell.

“It is true that all we hold dear is fated to fade away,” Y’shtola’s voice echoed in her ears, distant but perfectly clear to the advancing N’adana, “but that is no reason for us to forsake it!”

“And you! Why must you waste your final moments in futile defiance?”

Emet-Selch’s voice echoed through the vacuum of nothingness, directed at the Warrior of Light and Dark that advanced on him with slow and unsteady steps. She grasped onto her chakrams like a lifeline.

_For those we have lost._

Her knuckles turning as white as her vision as she stepped passed the crumpled bodies of her dearest friends.

“Weary wanderer – you’ve no fight left to fight! No life left to live!”

_For those-_

N’adana collapsed onto the ground again, her very skin cracking and bubbling with the Light that threatened to implode her very being. She screamed in agony as she clutched her head, mouth garbled with the cursed ichor that dripped out of her mouth and down the front of her armor.

Emet-Selch laughed maniacally from somewhere above her, though she couldn’t tell from where anymore. “You see? The light will not be denied!”

It forced itself onto her, into her very being, curling around her skin and bones and _aether_ and bursting back out again in the most painful of places.

“Surrender to your fate, and let the transformation take you!”

N’adana’s head started pounding so hard that the words the Ascian was spewing at her became a garbled mess, the only sound filling her ears being the deafening, chime-like noise of the aether that consumed her.

When N’adana looked up again, Ryne was next to her, clutching her side that stained her dress with blood. _No, no no nonono-_

“Fight it… you have to hold on!”

And then she collapsed.

N’adana wasn’t far behind the Oracle of Light as the sickness overtook her further, pushing _further_ and _further_ out of her skin until she was retching up the substance again, her entire body shaking desperately as she fell forward into a puddle of her own vomit.

_It can’t possibly end like this…_

“If you had the strength to take another step, could you do it?”

_Ardbert._

N’adana’s eyes fluttered open to see the man himself towering above her, the both of them blanketed entirely in an endless expanse of white.

“Could you save _our_ worlds?”

She lifted herself onto her elbows, the shaking of her limbs somehow stopping for a moment as the only answer she could ever give echoed in her mind.

“I never save anything by myself, Ardbert. You know that.”

He chuckled. Gods, she wondered how long it had been since he chuckled.

It was good to hear, despite it all.

Without another word, he unsheathed the same axe that he had swung at her mere months ago. _Offered_ it to her.

“Take it – we fight as one.”

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her body, but somehow _stronger._ It’s like they had…

_Oh._

The light that tried to consume her a mere moment ago now bent to her will, surrounded by a beam of light so brilliant and blinding and beautiful it felt alive. It was the polar opposite of the light that had plagued her for these past weeks.

Instead of despair, it felt like _hope._

“This world is not your’s to end,” Arbert’s voice reverberated through N’adana’s chest and spilled out of her mouth, “this is _our_ future. _Our_ story.”

For what was a flash of a moment, N’adana could almost sense a third being mixed with her aether – the image of a hooded woman that somehow reflected her like a mirror, but…

“How can you hope to stand against me alone?” Emet-Selch spat, though there was something in his voice that betrayed him.

“We stand together!” a familiar voice called from behind the Ascian. N’adana caught a flash of red hair as the figure leaned against a golden staff-

_“G’raha!”_

Her friend smiled at her weakly from across the expansive crystalline platform as Emet-Selch whipped around to face him.

“How did-?! I’m surprised you can stand at all.”

“I could not well leave matters half-finished,” G’raha straightened his back, raised his hands to the sky, “let expanse retract, eon become instant!”

And suddenly, the same beam of light that had engulfed N’adana a moment previously now multiplied around her, feeling as if they completely filled the voided space around them with their brilliance. They all felt familiar in some way, made her feel whole and hopeful and _ready._

_For the ones that we may yet save, we fight as one._


	23. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _wish; a desire or hope for something to happen._
> 
> The twins surprise N'adana on her birthday while they're traveling in Doma.

“N’adana!” The miqo’te heard a familiar voice call, glancing her head up from polishing her sword to see Alphinaud and Alisaie approaching.

They were both acting awfully suspicious in the way they ran up, all eager-eyed and excited.

It was late in the afternoon by now, probably close to dinnertime, she assumed. N’adana could only tell the time by the gaping hole in the ceiling of the House of the Fierce, letting them know that the sun was going to set soon – the sunset that would signify the end of her seventeenth nameday, spent uneventfully gathering supplies while the more intelligent ones in the resistance devised the plan to retake Doma Castle.

“Hm?” she asked them with a raised brow, watching pointedly as they tried to hide their smiles. Alisaie, notably, was disheveled and sweaty, as if she had just come from a bout of training.

“We just wanted to invite you to eat dinner with us.” Alphinaud tried to reply smoothly, but N’adana could already tell they were up to something. The way they hurriedly leaned forward to help her up was enough – they wouldn’t be this eager to simply make sure she was fed.

N’adana followed them without complaint, leaving her sword propped up against the stone wall of the cavernous hideout. They passed the aetheryte and slipped inside one of the doors carved into the stone, which led to a candle-lit room where the resistance kept all their foodstuffs and basic kitchen supplies.

Except today, the room was enchanted with a spell that caused small, aetheric bubbles to hang from the ceiling and faintly light the room. Alphinad’s carbuncle sat curled up on a mismatched chair at the single wooden table, which was set with an array of a modest dinner. There was bread and soup and a hearty chunk of meat on each plate, and in the center there was… a cake?

“Happy Nameday!” both of the twins exclaimed, stepping forward and wrapping N’adana in a hug that made her begin to well up with tears.

“You didn’t have to do this, you two! This is s-so nice, you didn’t…” Alisaie and Alphinaud chuckled as they pulled away from their friend, watching her as she wiped away her tears in embarrassment.

“Don’t be silly, of course we did.” Alphinaud assured her, walking over to the table and picking his carbuncle off the chair before sitting down and placing it directly back into his lap. He gestured for her to take a seat, to which Alisaie pushed her into before sitting in the chair across from her brother. “We shall treat you to a lovely birthday dinner, and then you can open your gifts.”

The three of them ate eagerly, the twins having labored over the food for hours and N’adana having forgotten to eat for much of the day (save for some breakfast she swiped before heading out for the day). N’adana thanked them no less than ten times in the bell it took them to finish, taking their time between bites to laugh and joke and simply enjoy each other’s company. By the time they had finished, N’adana pushed the war and the oncoming assault and her responsibilities from her mind entirely, if only just for a little bit.

Once they all seemed adequately satisfied with dinner, Alisaie leaned forward across the table to pick up the knife that was already sitting next to the cake. “Your first gift for tonight is this cake!” She smiled widely at N’adana, though there was a part of her gaze that made it seem like she didn’t feel it was good enough. It was a simply made cake, unfrosted and shaped like a bowl (likely how she cooked it over the fire), but impressively fluffy and moist looking.

Where had she found a candle like that, N’adana wondered.

Alisaie lit the candle, and thankfully the two omitted the traditional embarrassing bout of singing before telling her to make a wish.

“I wish…” N’adana hummed, closing her eyes and thinking hard for a moment. She could wish for freedom for Doma, or a successful siege of the castle, or even to see her mother or the other Scions, but there was one thing that came to her mind and fell from her lips before she even realized she had said it. It was _her_ nameday, and she could be as selfish with her wish as she damn well pleased.

“I wish that the two of you will be my friends for many years to come. Even if we succeed in our goals and by some miracle don’t need to be around each other out of necessity, I hope that we’ll still spend just as much time together, and be just as close.”

Now it was Alphinaud’s turn to tear up, though he quickly wiped them away and reassured N’adana that they would do everything in their power to make sure that happened.

Another tender moment passed between the trio before Alisaie stood and leaned forward towards the cake. “It was hard to get together the supplies to make one, but I managed! I hope it tastes okay.” Alisaie smiled sheepishly before plucking the candle from the top.

“Shut up! The fact that you even managed to make me a cake in a barely-stocked resistance kitchen is… is-“

Alphinaud smiled between the both of them before raising a knowing brow at Alisaie, “Like I said earlier, ‘tis impressive, Alisaie.”

The elezen deflected the praise from both of them as she cut three slices, ranging from large to small (naturally, she gave N’adana the largest one, as was nameday custom). Alisaie took the smallest, nervously trying a bite of her own creation before crinkling her nose. “Damn, I think I could have added more sugar… maybe an extra egg.”

N’adana shook her head furiously, “No, stop that! This is, I’m not even kidding you, the _best_ cake I’ve ever had.”

Alisaie snorted, “This is _not_ better than that cake they served us the last time we were in Ishgard!”

“It absolutely is, because _you_ made it for _me_!” N’adana shot back, sticking out her tongue before taking another large, satisfied bite from the cake.

Alisaie grumbled to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks, hoping the dim lighting from the aether-bubbles enough to hide it.

Alphinaud, ever the lifesaver, pulled out a rolled piece of parchment to distract N’adana while Alisaie tried to get over her embarrassment. It was tied with one of his blue ribbons, likely a stray found at the bottom of his pack to make the gift slightly more presentable.

N’adana untied the ribbon and opened the scroll to reveal what was inside, bursting into tears once more at the content she was presented.

“Is it bad? I didn’t work on it very long, it’s not my best work, but-“

“T-this is so s-sweet!” N’adana stared down at the drawing Alphinaud had _made_ for _her,_ trying her hardest to keep it out of the way of her tears. It was the three of them, smiling together in a way that made it feel as if she could simply look at it and hear their laughs feel their presence, even when they weren’t next to her. A drawing of her, perfectly rendered, with her arms wrapped around her two favorite twins. “I… I don’t know what to say, the two of you doing this for me and taking the time out of your day-“

Alphinaud breathed a sigh of relief, “I am full glad you like it. I know you liked to peak over my shoulder while we were traveling in Dravania, so I thought it would be a suitable gift.”

“It’s perfect – both of you, thank you.” N’adana sniffled, gingerly putting the drawing down so that she could wipe her eyes and nose of happy tears – something she hadn’t experienced in moons, at the very least.

“You have said your thanks quite enough tonight,” Alphinaud smiled affectionately at his dear friend, heart swelling at the sight of her so carefree and happy, “now I believe it is time to finish the rest of your gift, hm?” He gestured towards the rest of the cake on her plate, to which she eagerly nodded and finished wholeheartedly.

She was on her third piece of cake when she clocked out, leaning back in her chair and groaning in satisfaction.

“I have another gift for you, too,” Alisaie seemed to suddenly remember, digging into her pocket momentarily before pulling her hand back out, balled into a fist before she opened it to N’adana, revealing a necklace made of sturdy leather. There was a single red gemstone attached to it, wrapped in a gold wire, and hooked onto the leather with a matching clasp. “I found it at the market in Kugane. I knew your birthday was coming up soon, and it reminded me of you...” She shrugged as if it was no big deal.

It was certainly a big deal, at least to N’adana.

N’adana reached out and took the necklace from Alisaie’s hand, hesitating for what was probably a moment too long before grasping it and holding it closer to her face. It was entirely her style – simple, practical, and most importantly – it reminded her of Alisaie. “If you want me to stop thanking both of you, then you best stop being the most absolutely perfect, most thoughtful friends on all of Hydaelyn.” N’adana smiled at the both of them before clasping the necklace around her throat.


	24. When Pigs Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _when pigs fly; an adynaton, a way of saying that something will never happen. The phrase is often used for humorous effect, to scoff at over-ambition._

“When pigs fly.” N’adana snorted, half-heartedly pulling at one of the strings on her chest piece as she lounged back in her chair.

Alphinaud chuckled, though she could tell he was trying his best to be diplomatic about the ordeal. After all, she knew that he always wanted the Scions to appear their best. “’Tis a celebration! It seems only proper to find something more becoming of a hero such as yourself.”

N’adana rolled her eyes, “Armor _is_ the most becoming thing I could be wearing, Alphinaud. I take care of it just fine!”

N’adana felt like she could have won the argument and made her friend relent had it not been for Tataru strolling in with a stack of papers in her hands. “What is it you two are talking about now, hm?”

Before N’adana could deflect, Alphinaud spoke up, “N’adana refuses to wear anything remotely formal to the banquet, and I am simply trying to convince her-“

“He’s not doing a good job,” N’adana cut him off, holding out her hand to silence him, “I’ll give my armor a good polish beforehand, but no more. Besides, I don’t want to spend my gil on a dress that I’ll only wear once! I could just send it home to my ma’ and it’ll get malms more use than what I could use it for.”

Tataru looked at her with a wicked grin that was more terrifying than any primal she had faced thus far. “Why, N’adana, why didn’t you say so?! You don’t have to spend a single coin, because I’ll make you one!”

Alphinaud looked at N’adana with the biggest shit-eating grin she had ever seen, leaning back in his chair and letting Tataru take over his arguments.

_At least he was shutting up for once._

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean N’adana could bask in golden silence like she had hoped. Instead, Tataru took her by the hand and excitedly guided her over to her desk where she pulled out a tape measure and began excitedly wrapping it around every curve of the poor miqo’te’s body. Tataru ignored every argument N’adana tried to give her, simply responding with “nonsense! It’s no trouble at all, I _want_ to do this!”

Alphinaud simply sat back and watched in triumph, sipping his favored tea quietly as he watched the chaos unfold before him.

* * *

“When shall we expect to see the glorious silhouettes of winged pigs grace the skyline tonight, Miss Vhet?” Alphinaud teased as N’adana approached the group of Scions outside the Royal Promenade.

N’adana grumbled towards him as she adjusted the skirts of the dress she wore, impossibly large and, frankly, annoying to deal with. The sleeves that hung off her shoulders were poofy and feminine, but at least Tataru made what felt like was supposed to be heavy fabric light enough for the Ul’dahn heat.

“I, for one, think you look beautiful.” Minfilia offered gently, stepping forward to help N’adana adjust the necklace around her throat. Alphinaud tried his hardest to disguise his staring, but he was not as stealthy with his gaze as he thought he was being.

Y’shtola flashed a coeurl-like grin towards the young elezen, “Don’t you agree with Minfilia, Alphinaud? This was _your_ idea, after all.”

The poor boy stuttered like prey caught in the sights of a skilled hunter, “I, uh, yes – of course,” he rubbed the back of his neck, face turning an embarrassing shade of red. Perhaps he was starting to regret his decision, considering the fact that N’adana’s appearance was already proving to be quite the distraction for Alphinaud this night.

He just hoped she was too frustrated with her garments tonight to notice.


	25. Irenic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _irenic; aiming or aimed at peace._

N’adana steadied her breathing as she sat down in her designated seat at the long, looming table that represented decades of war and disagreements. Despite the irenic nature of the meeting, she couldn’t help but feel like something terrible was about to go wrong. The dark fabric of the tent made her feel claustrophobic as she gripped the edge of her seat, the fingers of her gauntlets making the leather cushion squeak under her touch.

The action made Alisaie’s ears twitch at the sound, glancing over to N’adana and raising her brow in concern. “Is aught amiss, N’adana?”

The miqo’te sighed, glancing around at the other representatives of the Eorzean Alliance before speaking quietly, “It’s nothing, I’m just… nervous. I’m sure you already know my track record with politics,” she bit her lip, “not to mention that I was _specifically_ requested to attend…”

Alisaie’s expression softened, leaning over and putting a comforting hand on her forearm just below the dip where her pauldron ended. “It seems we’re both hopeless at this table without Alphinaud,” she sighed, though the momentary wave of sadness was forcibly pushed aside, “so that just means we’ll have to lean on each other instead.”

“Here.” Alisaie let her hand fall down to N’adana’s knee, palm facing up as an open invitation for the miqo’te to grab it if she wished, “I’m sure it’ll help both of our nerves.”

Before N’adana could reply, Varis zos Galvus himself pushed aside the opposite entrance of the tend and entered, just as threatening and imposing as the Warrior of Light expected him to be.

Without looking down, N’adana felt Alisaie began to pull her hand away. She blindly reached out to grab her ungloved hand before the elezen had the chance to relinquish her offer entirely, keeping her gaze set on zos Galvus as he introduced himself.

N’adana squeezed her friend’s hand nervously, receiving a mirrored gesture in return almost instantly, as if to say _I’ve got you._

The Warrior of Light relaxed slightly into the grasp of Alisaie’s stalwart presence, and despite their uneasiness, they took solace in the stability they offered each other.


	26. Paternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _paternal; showing a kindness and care associated with a father; fatherly._
> 
> _Alisaie and N'adana deal with the concept of parenthood._

N’adana and Alisaie entered the Ocular together, the last of the Scions to gather for their weekly briefing. G’raha raised a brow at the two of them as they entered, which caused the rest of the Scions to turn around as well.

And to their surprise, they had arrived with Angelo bundled up in a blanket and cradled like a babe in N’adana’s arms.

“Why-“ Alphinaud started, but Alisaie held her hand up with a tired huff.

“We’re late because he started crying every time we tried to walk out the door. We shall have to brave Angelo’s whims for the time being, as he is in…”

“A mood.” N’adana finished, adjusting the porxie in her arms as he squealed happily at the warm affection.

Thancred chuckled as they completed their usual circle, shaking his head as he stared at the two tired-looking girls. “Parenthood is _hard,_ isn’t it?”

“Mm, soon we will be joining you and Urianger for brunch and fussing over which one of us will babysit.” Alisaie smirked, wordlessly taking Angelo from N’adana’s arms as he nudged her arm, a silent plea that was a request to switch between them.

The rest of the Scions joined in laughing at the image presented before them - the _Warrior of Darkness_ and _Alisaie Levallieur_ cradling a needy porxie together like a pair of tired, newfound parents.

The rest of the meeting was spent with the two wordlessly passing Angelo back and forth between them when their arms got tired, their discussions only interrupted by the occasional chuckle when one of the Scions caught them babying the needy little porxie.


	27. Splinter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _splinter; a thin piece split or broken off lengthwise. to split into fragments, parts, or factions._
> 
> _Haurchefant and N'adana are sword-and-shield homies._

The cold air of Corethas stung N’adana’s cheeks, but she brushed it aside as the blood began to quicken in her veins. She struck the training dummy in front of her with force, blocking the wooden extensions with her shield as the force of her hit made the rotating dummy spin towards her.

Truthfully, she was getting a bit bored with the thing. Her sword made contact with the wooden armature just-so that it broke and splintered into pieces, causing a loud _crack_ before it broke off and tumbled into the snow that gathered on the ground.

_“Woah, woah! Slow down there, champ – your opponent is going to get in a right blow on you if you don’t guard your front!” N’manni chuckled, grabbing the blunted, wooden blade of N’adana’s sword to stop her from swinging it again. He let it go as soon as she had stopped, and she let the practice sword fall to her side._

_The eight-year-old pouted, using her free hand to brush the red hair that stuck to her forehead. “But if I don’t hit them very fast, then how am I supposed to win?”_

_“With this,” N’manni bopped his sister’s forehead with a gloved hand, “search for weak points, but make sure they can’t find your’s. It’s a balance – a push and pull. Like… when you dance with someone.” He seemed pleased with this analogy, though N’adana was having a hard time wrapping her head around it._

_“I don’t think I’m smart enough to fight with my head,” N’adana kicked the dirt beneath her, drawing a line with the tip of her worn, wooden sword, “I can just get really good at hitting things instead!” She picked up the sword again and wacked it against a nearby post, so hard that the wood of her sword splintered and pushed into the palm of her hand._

_“Ouch!” N’adana started to tear up, dropping the sword on the ground and putting the dirty palm of her hand in her mouth to suck on._

_N’manni quickly rushed over to kneel in front of her, pulling her hand out of her mouth and inspecting the splinter that had lodged into her skin. “We’ll get you home and get you all cleaned up, hm?” He picked up N’adana effortlessly, using his other hand to pick up her sword before adjusting his grip and starting their short walk home. “See what happens when you swing before you think?”_

_N’adana wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, “I can get hurted.”_

_“That’s right, you can get hurted. And I won’t let you get hurted, is that right, Adana?”_

_The little miqo’te nodded quietly, holding her splintered hand to her chest as her brother carried her home._

“Breaking my training dummies this morn’, I see.” Haurchefant’s cheery voice spoke up from behind her, and despite his lighthearted tone, N’adana’s ears flattened against her head as she turned to face him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, snapping back into reality as she tried to catch her breath, “perhaps they should give you some sturdier training dummies if I’m going to be here for awhile.”

“Here, let me help you,” Haurchefant chuckled, stepping passed her to clean up the splintered pieces of wood that fell to the ground, “that is quite a fine suggestion, N’adana. I shall put it on the list!”

N’adana flushed, “I didn’t mean to put another weight on your shoulders! You’re already doing so much for us-“

Haurchefant shook his head with another joyous, delighted chuckle, “Nonsense, my friend! ‘Tis a splendid idea _regardless,_ so there is no need to fret over it one-“ Haurchefant threw the splintered wood on a nearby pile of firewood, “-moment.”

N’adana chased after him as she tried to assist in cleaning up her mess, but the elezen was having none of it.

“If you are so adamant to make it up to me, my little friend,” he grinned, unsheathing the sword from his belt, “perhaps you will humor me with a spar? Since it seems my training dummies were not suitable enough for you.”

“I suppose I could do as such, Mister Greystone. Go easy on me though, would you?” N’adana mirrored his humored smile, spinning the sword in her hand before positioning herself on the opposite side of the small courtyard of Camp Dragonhead.

“Go easy on _you_? A bold request indeed, one that I must extend to you in turn.” Haurchefant strapped his shield to his arm.

The two shared a banter that attracted the guards that had been patrolling the camp that morning, eager to see _their Lord_ and the _Warrior of Light_ duke it out on what was otherwise an uneventful day thus far. The two traded tips and stances as they dodged each other’s’ swings and hits, stopping occasionally to show each other a move or correct their opponent’s form.

“You go too fast, Haurchefant. I get so many hits on you because you don’t take the time to think and block.” N’adana suggested as her blunted sword contacted his shoulder. She had been hesitant to offer him advice before, but after one insistent spar almost an entire moon ago, she came to see that the man took her advice in earnest, despite her age.

“I shall take the advice to heart, N’adana. However, may I also suggest that you allow yourself a more _open_ stance?” His sword clattered against her shield, a valiant bulwark against his excited advances.

N’adana grinned, “As a wise warrior once told me – it’s a push and pull, Haurchefant. I adjust myself as per my opponent’s steps.”

N’adana and Haurchefant practiced their swordsmanship for at least a bell and a half until Yaelle came to fetch the man that had been avoiding his duties all morning. She marched him back inside as Haurchefant eagerly quipped about how _if he was to run Camp Dragonhead, he must get in some more proper training!_

_You have a stack of paperwork on your desk, ser._

N’adana snickered quietly to herself as she watched the poor man be hauled off like a child who had wandered away at the park, sheathing her sword into the scabbard at her hip. She wandered off after the eager guards had dispersed, letting her thoughts wander to an unobtainable reality where she could have introduced Manni to her dear new friends.

 _He would have loved Haurchefant,_ she thought to herself with a smile.


End file.
